Sunday, 26 April 2015

If you've recently read Greg Lansdowne's excellent book 'Stuck On You: The Rise & Fall… & Rise Of Panini Stickers', you'll know how much detail he managed to cram into 256 pages about the wonderful world of sticker collecting.Now, especially for Football Attic followers, Greg takes a closer look at a pivotal time in the UK's sticker and card collecting market - the 1991-92 season...

Collectables will eat themselves

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times...

On reflection it was just the worst.

If you were a fan of football collectables, the Eighties splits opinion. Reading Rob Jovanovic’s book on the subject, ‘Swap Yer’ one would think it was a period in the doldrums.

Perhaps it is just that Rob is a ‘cards’ rather than ‘stickers’ kind of guy, but calling that decade a “barren time” and “dark days” for collectors are assertions that, in part, led me to write a book espousing the virtues of Panini, and stickers of that decade in general.

What followed in the early Nineties is a bit less equivocal.

It was a mess.

For those who had longed for the return of the football card there was a beacon of hope in the shape of Pro Set, yet its bright opening was quickly extinguished – partly by its own hand.

For sticker fans – or, specifically Panini sticker fans - it was the end of an era, encapsulated by the ‘Football 92’ (sic) album.

In fact the 1991-92 collectables season marked such a low point that it merits an unexpurgated retrospective.

It could be argued that having the opportunity to deal in four separate issues (six if you were able to get hold of two dedicated-Scottish versions on top) would be manna from heaven for those of a collecting disposition.

In reality, what was on offer was a dog’s dinner of a Panini sticker album plus three – three! - card collections.

During the previous season, Panini had at least attempted to innovate (albeit badly) in an effort to counter the competition (new entrant Pro Set and the Sun’s ‘Soccer Sticker Collection’).
‘Football 1991’ begat not one but two different packets of stickers.

The red set, called the 'Foil Collection', was for club shinies, managers and Italia 90 World Cup action, coming out early in the season to lengthen the album’s presence. The 'Players Collection', in yellow, were the tried and tested individual head and shoulder pictures and team photo stickers, arriving in the familiar January Panini window.

Panini’s experiment was a failure – Pro Set was the collectable du jour for 1990-91 – but at least they tried.

By 1991-92 the album was remodelled to ‘English Football 1992’. It would be hard to find an album less Panini-like in composition.

Here is the crime sheet:

No Scottish stickers

Standardised head and shoulder shots had been replaced by action photos

Lower division football reduced to ‘Twelve of the Best from the Second Division’

No player biographies

No foils/shinies!

Of course, there were mitigating circumstances.

Panini UK (along with other regions) had seen their budget severely cut – and, indeed, their resources dipped into in an attempt to manage leaks in other areas of owner Robert Maxwell’s empire - and that was reflected in the resultant ‘English Football 1992’.

It was during this season that Panini lost the most controversial leader in their history – drowned at sea. Recovery in the UK – certainly in football terms – would take a number of years as Merlin became the prime mover. But that is another story.

If English collectors felt short-changed by Panini’s offering, at least those north of the border could feel like a wrong of the previous decade had been partially avenged. For many years, Scottish players were reduced to two players per sticker in Panini albums – a slight felt strongly by many.

Now, however, in ‘Panini Scottish Football 1992’, the Scottish Premier Division clubs were afforded a distinction not provided to their English counterparts that season.

They each had a shiny club badge.

With only 12 teams in the Scottish Premier Division, the album was padded out to the lofty heights of 180 stickers (compared to a still-paltry 276 for the English edition) with a section on Scottish players in England.

If Panini really were keen on cutting costs that year, why not produce the same stickers for players such as Chelsea’s Steve Clarke, who featured in both albums. Especially when the shot chosen for ‘English Football 1992’ is more of a crowd scene than a tribute to the now Reading boss.

But for all Panini’s sticker efforts, 1991-92 will go down in football collecting history as the year of the card.

American company Pro Set had capitalised on the over-egging of sticker albums over previous years with an innovative (for this generation of collectors) card set. Having made a successful entry into the lucrative US trading card market in the late Eighties, owner Ludwell Denny’s expansion plans showed early promise as it shifted around 20 million packets of the ‘Pro Set 1990-91 Collector Cards’ series.

With the help of football agent John Smith, Pro Set became the official card of the Football Association as it made a surprising, and successful, move into the UK.

Secondly, if the competition didn’t get them, Pro Set did a good job in bewildering collectors by issuing their 1991-92 edition in three different packets (Official Fixture Cards, followed by Player Cards in two parts). Like Panini’s sticker collection, they also chose to issue separately in Scotland.

Confusion reigned.

Each company pinned their colours to the masts of various football publications as they attempted to shout loudest amongst the cacophony of competing voices: Pro Set collaborated with Shoot! and The Sun, Shooting Stars with the newcomer 90 Minutes, while Panini worked with Match Weekly, Roy of the Rovers and the Daily Record in Scotland.

Similarly-proportioned cards had been hugely popular throughout the Sixties and Seventies as A&BC (subsequently taken over by Topps in the mid-Seventies) produced a series of memorable releases.

But whereas those sets were almost exclusively head and shoulder pictures, the latest collections (particularly Panini and Shooting Stars) were a hotch-potch of portrait and landscape action shots where the player represented would often be vying for attention with one or more opponents and/or or team-mates.

With Pro Set already seemingly an established brand – despite just one previous season – the new kid on the block was Shooting Stars. American-based billionairess Patricia Kluge set up Super League Publishing after her son had shown an interest in British football collectables. While Pro Set gave away 10 cards per pack, Shooting Stars went for 15 – a fair chunk of a 400-set.

With no experience in the industry, Kluge called upon the services of Merlin Publishing to distribute and market the collection. Founded by four former Panini employees/distributors, Merlin had already dipped its toe into the murky football waters, but ‘Team 90’ and their Italia 90 sticker albums had limited success. As a result they had decided to give football a wide berth while the volatile market settled down. To that end they were happy to assist Kluge without putting their name to the product.

As they had advised her, Shooting Stars proved to be a flop – as did every sticker and card collection that year - but it all ended happily ever after.

Kluge ended up taking a sizeable stake in Merlin, as well as introducing them to then Arsenal Vice-Chairman David Dein - who just so happened to be looking for a company to produce a sticker album for the recently-founded Premier League, with which he was also involved.

The rest is history.

While the 1991-92 collectables season had no winners, it did ‘turn out nice again’ for Kluge and her Merlin collaborators as well as, in the long-run, Panini. Even Pro Set had already ensured its place in collectables history for bringing about the revival of football cards in the UK… a legacy that lives on through Match Attax.

Nick Berry had summed it up perfectly just a few years earlier… Every Loser Wins.

Wednesday, 15 April 2015

What lucky people we are! As you probably know by now, we love bringing you guest posts written by fabulous writers, and here's another one penned by top blogger Rich Nelson!Rich recently came up with the answer to the question: "Whatever happened to Saint & Greavise?" (whether you were asking it or not), and here he is to tell all...

As part of the buzz around last summer's World Cup, my local charity shops got involved and I was sucked in. The Heart Foundation shop were offering various football-related fare, so I parted with 199 pence for a box of childhood memories featuring TV stalwarts Ian St John and Jimmy Greaves acting as quizmasters. Perhaps fortunately, my wife, who was unaware of Saint and Greavsie as she had grown up in Finland, placed the box in the garage, before I could get around to watching it, in DVD board game heaven with a Jack Bauer-themed quiz and one about James Bond.

So eventually on a period of gardening leave between jobs, I found myself tidying said garage and deciding to give it a whirl. Well, after kicking the free gift football to the dog...

It didn't take long for the wave of nostalgia to rush over me like heroin. The opening credits roll with cigarette cards coming to life to the soundtrack of the ITV World Cup 86 theme. Greavsie drinking milk (for a change), some clips from Wembley games of the era and then we're away. Now I may have had my mind spoiled by the Skinner and Baddiel imitations of Saint and Greavsie, with the constant chuckling... But I was almost disappointed for St John to pile straight into the introductions.

The main menu screens fart out a choice of two sides - England or Scotland... It's as though the quiz itself is set in the 1970s. It's a game for one or two players (or teams), including the patronising option of playing with a cat. I opted to play against the dog. Thankfully for me he slept through the whole ordeal. Choosing England or Scotland makes little difference to the game itself, aside from the pre-recorded joshing between Saint and Greavsie during the rounds.

It's a very typical TV quiz once it gets going, following the formula quite closely of A Question Of Sport. For someone who grew up on the sparse fare of televised football in the 1980s, it was nice to watch the footage that formed the "What happened next" rounds, followed by, in the first case, a clip of Steve Bull scoring for England with some questions about Bully's career. I didn't realise he'd scored four times... I suppose those days passed me by.

Part of the drawback to a DVD quiz were the questions which displayed a league table, where you had to identify the year. You then click to reveal the answer, before confirming whether you got it right. If you're playing on your own, would you be honest enough? I'd never cheat against the dog, I couldn't forgive myself. Luckily, the painful memories at the end of the 1998/99 season remained.

That's pretty much it - quiz over, roll credits.

But if you float around long enough, you'll find a couple of Easter Eggs on the main menu - bloopers and memories feature heavily, but one of them contains the pair's efforts at creating an all-time World XI. There is some evidence of a wider view outside of the British Isles, although surprisingly it is Greaves, perhaps, with the benefit of playing abroad, who is more willing to look to players like Lev Yashin, Di Stefano and Puskas. The XI itself is certainly different from a lot of similar efforts. Can't imagine Ray Wilson featuring heavily.

And so that's it - I'm happy to send my copy to anyone who wants it, it'd certainly pass the time after a night on the pop. You may need a few beers to help get through it. Hit me up on Twitter - first come first served.

Such generosity - thanks Rich! So there you have it... if you want to play along with Saint & Greavsie, get in touch with Rich Nelson on Twitter (@EscapeToSuomi) and you could soon be receiving his very own copy of the game.It also just leaves us to say a big thank you to Rich for writing us this guest post, and if you want to read more of his excellent writing, you can catch him over at the Escape To Suomi website at www.escapetosuomi.com.

Tuesday, 14 April 2015

No-one ever said it was impossible not to score from the penalty spot, but at the very least you shouldn't be far off if you miss. The penalty spot, after all, is only 11 metres away (give or take a few centimetres), and the goalmouth itself covers just short of 18 square metres. Having your shot saved by the goalkeeper is entirely possible, but missing the goal by a considerable distance? Well that's got to be virtually impossible, wouldn't you say?

Not if you're Diana Ross, it isn't, but surely the one-time lead singer of The Supremes has had a rough deal for the last 21 years? When she fluffed her big moment during the 1994 World Cup opening ceremony, she may have caused a collective sniggering up the sleeve of the watching millions around the world, but it wasn't her fault really. Prior to her unfortunate swing and miss while singing 'I'm Coming Out', she'd probably never even clapped eyes on a football, let alone be paid to kick one on a professional basis. Why on Earth did anyone expect her to put the ball in the back of that shoddily-made net?

Footballers, however, are different. Their very existence revolves around the ability to kick a ball straight, and, in a penalty situation, towards a largely open goalmouth.

With that in mind, we're inclined to scratch our heads until they bleed at the sight of this anti-skill on the part of Francis Lee in England's last international match of the 1960's...

Monday, 13 April 2015

So which exciting subject are we covering this time? We're not... nope! Rather than talk endlessly about one subject we decided to have fund and do a 'Best & Worst' list type thing, seeing as that's what the interweb seems to like these days.

During the course of the show, we throw football nostalgia categories at each other (conversationally speaking) and discuss which are our favourite and least favourite things in those categories.

So for instance, you may hear Chris asking Rich for his best and worst items in the category of 'Football Kits'. Rich will obviously pick 'England '82' as his best and 'Coventry City 87' as his worst... Wait a minute... That can't be right... :-)

It's all entirely our opinion and therefore totally subjective, just the way it should be!

ENJOY MOFOS!!!!

Subscribe to The Football Attic Podcast on iTunes or download our podcast here.

Friday, 10 April 2015

It’s a little known fact that several decades ago, the United Nations passed a resolution whereby ‘all references to the 1970 World Cup must mention the 1966 World Cup at some point.’ Applying only to British journalists, publishers and film-makers, this ensured that England’s finest hour was not easily forgotten and was exploited for all its nationalistic hubris until the inevitable fall from grace followed swiftly thereafter.

The evidence of this UN resolution that I may have just made up can be seen everywhere in the memorabilia of the early-1970’s. Even the Golden Goals book I wrote about recently couldn’t help but remind England fans that ‘hey - we won the World Cup in 1966… remember?’

The Official Film of the 1970 World Cup does exactly that, right from the very start when Bobby Moore is seen raising the Jules Rimet Trophy to a Union Flag-waving Wembley crowd. They had to, you see. The UN said so, and that was that.

With the ‘66’ box ticked, it was straight onto the next item on the Official World Cup Film Checklist, namely ‘Teams setting off/arriving’. Here we see the 1970 England squad boarding their plane while Patrick Allen set the scene verbally for us. Our narrator, who would later gain notoriety as the voice of the UK government’s ‘Protect and Survive’ films and, consequently, Frankie Goes To Hollywood’s ‘Two Tribes’ video was the ideal choice to describe the visuals of the film. With a voice that resonated with integrity and trust, you knew that this wasn’t going to be some cheap epic knocked off by someone still learning to use a cine camera. This was a serious film about the World Cup, and Patrick Allen’s narration added all the dynamic urgency that was needed to make it great.

After the fabulous signature tune, ‘Mucho Mexico Seven-O’, and the dubiously-depicted flags of the title sequence, there’s no option but to screw up our Official World Cup Film Checklist because for the first time ever there’s a story to be told. That’s right - not only were we treated to the sight of the world’s greatest football players kicking a ball around a pitch, but also some people acting. You know - pretending stuff was real and that.

The story of The World At Their Feet centres on a young Mexican boy called Martin who dreams of seeing the likes of Bobby Moore, Pele and Franz Beckenbauer playing at the Azteca Stadium. So intense is his love of football that he decides to hitchhike his way to the opening game without telling his mother. “Mama - she wouldn’t let me. She wouldn’t understand… but if she didn’t know…” says the boy (or at least that of the voiceover artiste representing him).

And so we see Martin on the back of a pack mule, getting out of a Coke truck, dangling his feet off the end of a paddle boat and sitting in the back of a glamorous couple’s convertible as it cruised along the Mexican highway. His passage to the Azteca seamless and uncomplicated, this small boy of no more than eight years soon finds himself rubbing shoulders with the public masses arriving in Mexico City for the start of the tournament. Such cleverness at masterminding a plan so fraught with peril at every stage could only be applauded if it wasn’t such a load of old codswallop.

Inside the stadium, the opening ceremony begins and the flags of the competing nations are paraded to a vociferous crowd. We see balloons released and the teams of Mexico and the Soviet Union taking to the field for the first game. As we’ve all come to expect by now, the screen is emblazoned with searing sunshine-drenched hues that make you feel hot just watching it. Heaven knows what it must have been like playing in that kind of heat, and the fact that the opening match ended 0-0 is probably no surprise to anyone.

After that, highlights from several games rattle through at a snappy pace. Israel v Uruguay, England v Romania, Bulgaria v Peru… all treated with the same mix of camera angles, neat editing and informative narration. There’s also the attraction (if ‘attraction’ be the word I’m looking for) of hearing the occasional orchestral sting or percussive refrain whenever a player takes a tumble or thumps the ground with his fist in frustration. Such informal elements perfectly date the film, but you can’t help but feel that they’d have been better suited to a Norman Wisdom movie.

On with the relentless parade of match highlights. Brazil’s first game against Czechoslovakia is backed by an upbeat samba tune while West Germany’s opener against Morocco has a marching band playing an accompaniment. So much for predictable stereotypes… There’s also the occasional sight of a match scoreboard to present half-time and full-time scores, plus another old favourite from World Cup films - the crowd sequence.

It seems to me that several decades ago, football crowds had much more character to them. Instead of replica shirt-wearing oafs shouting abuse at the referee, you had women with beehive hair-dos applying lipstick to their mothers or men wearing pork-pie hats smoking pipes. Where are they now, one asks oneself?

One sequence that lingers long in the memory is the one featuring Sweden’s game against Israel. Picked out for its litany of fouls and general bad behaviour on the part of the players, we’re left not with a feeling of negativity being glorified so much as the pathetic futility that some of the players employ. Rash tackling, kicking off the ball and general impetulance are all on show here, and there’s even an attempt by Patrick Allen at gentle humour: “The Swedes, who have abolished capital punishment at home, seem to want to make an exception for [Israel’s] Spiegler. Probably wish they had, because three minutes later, Spiegler scores the equaliser for Israel.”

Before the last game in Group 1 between Mexico and Belgium, there’s a return to the story mentioned at the beginning. (You’d forgotten, hadn’t you?) Martin’s Mum, watching the game on TV , spots her boy following the teams out onto the pitch at the Azteca Stadium as the official mascot. “Oh Martin” she says, “That’s where you are.” You’d perhaps expect her to break down in tears at the thought of seeing her only son for the first time in a fortnight, but she doesn’t. You might also expect her to be speaking to the police or social services after ‘mislaying’ her little boy, but she isn’t. She’s sitting in her rocking chair at home, baby in her arms, and she couldn’t care less. And you wonder why this film didn’t get an Oscar…

Mexico’s 1-0 win in their final game was enough to see them through to the quarter finals, thereby prompting a short piece of film showing Mexican fans celebrating in the centre of Mexico City. After that, there’s a summary of the quarter final line-up using barely-legible cardboard name tags, then it’s back to the action which, as ever, combines pitch-level camera angles with the more familiar top-down view. It’s what the official World Cup films do best, and why they’re always so engaging to watch.

As the goals fly in with increasing regularity, the semi finals are quickly upon us and special attention is given to the second match between Italy and West Germany. Concise, yet balanced, we’re allowed to enjoy the excitement of Schnellinger’s last minute equaliser to force extra time, the Italians’ distress at being robbed of a place in the Final and the flood of goals that arrived in the additional 30 minutes of play. With Beckenbauer’s right arm strapped up after a heavy fall, it was Italy who took advantage and went on to win 4-3 - a classic game, nicely presented in distilled form for the purpose of the film.

And so to the Final, but first, what happened to Martin? Why, that cheeky little scamp managed to sneak onto the pitch at the Azteca while the stadium was empty for a quick kick-around. Sadly for him, his mother arrives (finally) to drag him off home by the ear, never to be seen again… or so we’re led to think.

Luckily, all the pomp and hoopla of the match between Brazil and Italy is on hand to take our mind of the young boy’s prospects. But wait! Who should be taking their seats in the crowd but a formally-dressed Martin with his mum (who appears to have made a rapid reversal in her treatment of his behaviour), plus the couple that gave him a lift in their convertible earlier in the film! It’s smiles all the way as the boy enjoys a happy ending before the inevitable screaming and shouting that occurs after the match when all the adults have a violent fist-fight. Probably.

Brazil and Italy, fortunately, have nothing but entertainment on their minds as they take to the field for The Greatest Final Ever ®. Again, there’s no intent to speed through the action - every aspect of all the key moments is explored in great detail. Slow motion, rythmic samba music, close-up shots of the enthralled crowd… they all add to the thrilling finale. There’s even time for some dubious dialogue from Patrick Allen after Italy level the score at 1-1: “Felix [Brazil’s goalkeeper], trying to wipe away the taste of Italy’s equaliser. Italy feasts on it. The Brazilian crowd have indigestion.” Even Joss Ackland would have trouble matching that during the 1974 World Cup Film…

And then after a tense second half, Brazil finally make the breakthrough and a 4-1 victory is assured. What’s more interesting than the sight of five goals being scored during the 90 minutes, however, is the chaos that ensues on the pitch afterwards. As the final whistle is blown, a thousand people spill onto the field to play their part in the celebrations.

We see from a first-person perspective fans trying to grab any available piece of clothing from the Brazilian players, referee Rudi Glöckner trying to leave the scene without being physically assaulted and an army of photographers, journalists and reporters all keen to relate the glory of this sensational Brazil victory as best they can.

In the middle of it all, Rivelino receives treatment from an injury, surrounded by the baying mob, Felix and Tostao embracing in tears at the sheer emotion of what’s happened and Pele, carried shoulder high by the fans that confirm his rise to sainthood in their eyes. All this captured on film by the cameramen that made themselves part of this impassioned scene. It’s a fabulous ending to a very enjoyable account of the 1970 World Cup.

And Martin? Leaving the stadium with his mother after the Final, he turns to her and says: “Mama - how far is it to Munich?” Call me cynical, but I think she may have told him in no uncertain terms.

Thursday, 9 April 2015

Here's a quick message to let you know we're recording Podcast 23 in a couple of days' time, and this one has the simple working title of 'Best and Worst'.

Why? It's simple! During the course of the show, we're going to be throwing football nostalgia categories at each other (conversationally speaking) and discussing which are our favourite and least favourite things in those categories.

So for instance, you may hear Chris asking Rich for his best and worst items in the category of 'Football Kits'. Rich will obviously pick 'England '82' as his best and 'Coventry City 87' as his worst... Wait a minute... That can't be right... :-)

If all this still makes sense, we'd like to invite you to suggest some categories of your own. They can be as wide-ranging or as obscure as you like, as long as they have a football nostalgia element to them. (Don't make them too obscure, mind you - we're not that well-informed on Peruvian Second Division goalkeepers!)

Once you've done that, leave us a comment on the end of this post and we'll do our best to read out your suggestions during the recording. Simple!

Thanks very much as ever for your contributions. We look forward to hearing from you!

Thursday, 2 April 2015

When I was a kid in the early 1980s, a trip to the local petrol station in my Dad's car didn't provide much in the way of excitement for me. Having filled up the tank and handed over his money in the forecourt shop, he'd return to the car with nothing more than a bunch of tokens for a free whisky tumbler and very little else. Had we been doing the exact same thing in the late 1970's, I might have been handed a small plastic Smurf as a special treat, or at the beginning of the Seventies, even an Esso World Cup Coin.

It seems I largely missed out on the petrol/football tie-ins that were so prominent in the early-70's. Everyone always thinks of Esso as being the masters of marketing where that's concerned (and rightly so), yet one little-known company had a go at cashing in on football fervour too - and made a decent job of it.

I say 'little-known company' - in fact it was a regional petrol company that was owned by Esso, not that anyone was really aware of that at the time. Cleveland Petrol had started out in the 1930's selling ethanol fuel in the north-east of England, but just before their forecourts were fully rebranded to Esso, they had the chance to embark on one or two football-related trade campaigns.

Golden Goals just happened to be a tie-in of sorts with ITV's The Big Match and it followed a familiar format. In the traditional manner, customers spending £1 on petrol at Cleveland stations were offered a free gift; in this case, a packet containing a solitary sticker. It doesn't sound like much, but the sticker was quite large and often split into two or three separate smaller images. Those images could then be stuck into an accompanying album (price: 20p) which doubled up nicely as a hardback reference book for the discerning young football fan.

If you lived in London or the South East back in 1972, you'd know that Golden Goals was The Big Match's answer to Match of the Day's 'Goal of the Month' competition on the BBC. Luckily for fans of 'Shoot' (the ITV football show in the north-east of England), they got to see The Big Match often during the 1971-72 season. That's because the Tyne Tees cameras were often sent away to cover horse racing at Redcar or Newcastle, so to fill in, they'd broadcast The Big Match instead.

The Golden Goals book was 'compiled by Jimmy Hill and Brian Moore', and following a brief foreword by The Bearded One, there were regular references to the Big Match goalfest throughout. More than 70 pages of illustrations were provided, showing how various important goals were scored and the players that were involved in scoring them. Coupled with the words of Martin Tyler, those aforementioned stickers completed many of the pages, showing the interplay between players, their positioning on the pitch and the importance of the match itself - three things that Jimmy Hill was always excellent at explaining on TV.

The 1966 World Cup Final and the following tournament in 1970 were, as you'd expect, still fresh in the memory when the book was created, but they were by no means the be-all-and-end-all of this interesting compendium. A wide range of subjects - and great goals - were explored and explained in full colour and fine detail, from FA Cup giant killing to the great strikers of the 20th Century.

Specific teams were also given special treatment. Manchester United's 'goal power' looked at the awesome strike partnership of Bobby Charlton, Denis Law and George Best, while Arsenal's route to double-winning glory was also brought into sharp focus. There was even room to look at local rivalries within British football and the great teams of international football - neither of which had anything directly to do with great goals, but were beautifully illustrated all the same.

The concept of Golden Goals as a book along with its accompanying stickers was beautifully executed in a very subtle way. Whereas Panini and their ilk introduced the concept of albums containing many hundreds of stickers in a single collection, Cleveland's version had only 41, yet there's never a feeling of 'if only there were more' about it. The stickers are not intrinsically vital to the book because the book is a fine piece of work in its own right. And yet although the stickers only played a complementary role, you still got that feeling of joy when your Dad handed you a pastel blue packet at a Cleveland Petrol station, and you still had the pleasure of sticking your stickers into the book, thereby making it even better than it was.

This 'less is more' approach showed how Panini might have developed their collections in later years, and may even have avoided their demise of the early 1990's had they done so. By producing a hardback book packed with lots of information and far fewer stickers, Cleveland showed cleverness in creating something more substantial than a basic sticker album yet still had the allure of building a collection within it.

And while everyone was waiting for the video recorder to be invented, what better way to remember great goals than to study them in illustrated form, page by page? This book had them by the dozen and celebrated them with real flare and integrity. Oh, and the petrol came in quite handy too.